 Scales of madness, with their ebb and flow;
Future decisions a reverie, what you don’t know.  Forging plans for one's own obsolescence;
Finding time for closed eyes in between the past seconds.  Bearing light in the spaces in which we descend;
Cold feeling peering through, try to mend.  And you ask, eyes narrowed with a hand hiding the sun;
What is this worth, why have you waited so long?  It’s true, I have sold my memories for things;
Investment for nothing and the promise it brings.  Ambiguity in nature, your constant failing to see;
The fallacies you concede, in composition’s decree.  A reverie for the lost, with hope for the fading;
Hallucinations for the weary, invitations on deaf ears.  Proceedings and preparation for self-condemnation;
Fault in discovery leads to endless admiration.  Luminance is awakened of the starless night;
Bringing candlelight forth to observe our plight.  In plains of glistening blades, in woods of contorted trees;
Ever seeking the mystery, falling deeper into pain.  Cleared the floor with the walls surrounding and failed to belong;
Gentle steps fall on granite halls, where were you all along?  Cleared the floor with the walls surrounding and failed to belong;
Gentle steps fall on granite halls, where were you all along?  Comfort in nature's silence, in its distinct lullaby;
Begin to feel nothing as the dark bruises the sky.  All too difficult to foresee, all our promises now broken;
Never once expected this collapse, from the words that were misspoken.  Despite what you may think, I don't need confirmation;
There is peace in abyss, renewal in aberration.  Do not hesitate or worry, I want you to know;
One of my greatest strengths is letting go.  This is true in life, so little is guaranteed;
Will anything serve company in a time of need?  Despite what is said, nothing yet has forbade it;
Pause and sing a song for the ones who never made it.  Give caress to my bones, when my spirit starts to wilt;
The last thing I want is for you to feel guilt.  Dislike for one's own look, scratching and tearing;
Problems run deeper, and this becomes overbearing.  A book closed in your hand, you reach the top of the stairs;
A grim thought you grasp again, who will be your heirs? |
